What about some TFP!Soundwave getting it on with a Con!Reader?
This was not supposed to have so much story to it but oh well-
Soundwave's Songbird| Decepticon!Reader x TFP Soundwave| NSFW
[Biting, Knotting, minor cum inflation, tentacles, rough sex, a lil bit of Feralwave😏, kinda public sex, fluff at the end]
{Tw: mentions of slavery, cheating, and abuse (it's not Soundwave guys dw)}
You were not built to be a warrior.
Your frame was small, not quite minicon size, but below average height for sure, and thicker than most Seeker frames. Your wings were vibrant and were decorated in shimmering, glittery patterns. You'd been a servant of a noble before the war has broken out, toted along to gladiator fights, casual meetups, and grand galas, dressed up in tacky jewelery that clashed with your colours horrendously and shown off like a living piece of art. An object to be owned, displayed for company, and then locked up and ignored.
The word slave hadn't ever been spoken, but it was clear you weren't there by choice.
Then, one day, you found yourself at another gladiator game. This one had been advertised as one of the most anticipated in many years, as the two most aggressive, brutal fighters were going to compete for the title of champion.
As you sat perched on a stool at your master's side, a too-tight choker clasped around your neck like a collar, complete with a thin silver chain that your master had wrapped around his servo, you glanced down at the fight as it began, optics widening as you saw who entered the ring.
Megatronus you knew; he was quickly becoming the star of Kaon's deplorable fights and you'd seen him often since your nobel took great delight in watching the bloodshed. You'd even met him once, when you caught him and a young archivist having a quiet conversation about the state of Cybertron. The grey mech wasn't supposed to be anywhere near the upper levels, and judging by the mix of anger and nervousness that had flashed across his face, he clearly thought that you were going to turn him in.
Instead, you'd very softly told him that you hoped that he succeeded in changing things, before the harsh voice of your master called you back to him.
So no, it was not Megatronus's impressive form that held your gaze.
It was his faceless opponent.
The mech was not too much shorter than Megatronus, with a deep grayish-blue and dark grey color pallet, accented beautifully by striking violet hues in-between the seams of his armor. His mask was an inky black, betraying nothing about what he might be thinking or feeling.
You certainly knew what you were feeling, and you very quickly had to turn your gaze away before your cooling fans kicked on.
However, you could not resist the urge to watch for long, and so as your master flirted dangerously with someone who was not his Conjunx, you indulged yourself in another glance.
A thrill of excitement shot through you as you watched him effortlessly dodge strike after strike, almost dancing to some unheard tune as he kept pace with the most skilled gladiator on Kaon's surface. Every clash of their weapons made your wings quiver a bit, some deep, primal part of you being deeply pleased by the idea of such a strong, suitable partner displaying his strength like this.
You quickly shoved that thought down, your face warming. Primus forbid your master look over now...
Thankfully, he seemed to only have optics for the sultry femme that had all but wrapped herself around him to notice anything going on around him, no longer interested in the fight that must have been fairly expensive to get seats to.
For once, you gave the fight your full attention, watching in awe as the gladiators finally reached a tie after a long, brutal battle, neither one able to best the other. You were enthralled by the spectacle, leaning as close as you could without causing your chain to go taunt. Your wings were splayed out in an unconscious display, glinting like jewels in the arena light.
Then, as the fight drew to an end, the crowd murmuring in disbelief, the masked fighter glanced up. You couldn't see his optics, but you felt his gaze land on you. Shocked, you quickly checked to insure that no one was watching, then gave him a small wave.
To your upmost surprise, he waved back.
Later on, you'd learned from a passing conversation that his name was Soundwave.
After that night, you payed more attention to Megatronus's, or rather, Megatron's speeches whenever you got the chance. At first, it was just because Soundwave was also there, and you weren't going to miss an opportunity to look at him. But soon, you found yourself really listening to what Megatronus was saying. It wasn't long until the gladiator's words began to stoke the ember of anger that had been smoldering in you ever since you'd been "hired" by your master, (you had been sold off by your own Sire), and soon you found yourself sneaking off to secret meetings with other rebellious bots.
It was in the shadows of Cybertron that you really began to fall for Soundwave. You had the unique advantage of being seen as completely harmless, submissive, and loyal by those in the upper castes, which made you an excellent spy. You would sit and play the part of a pretty picture and resist the urge to rip the sparks out of the various mechs and femmes who touched your wings without permission, often being far too rough with the sensitive appendages, listening in on all the gossip that was spoke near you. Then, you'd discreetly meet up with Soundwave and give him the recordings of the conversations no one realized you'd been listening in on.
The silent mech seemed slightly distrustful of you at first, but your previous encounter with Megatron and your unwavering dedication to the cause quickly dissuaded any suspicion.
Affairs, assaults, and under the table deals done by Cybertron's most well respected and powerful were soon leaked to the public. The cracks in the pillars of society were shoved out into the light thanks to you and your fellow Decepticons, and turmoil quickly began to spread.
Soon, you began to feel an extra set of optics on you whenever you were out in public, and when you managed to slip away to your secret meeting place, Soundwave would immediately take notice of any little ding or scrape on your frame, gently brushing over your armor with his digits or tentacles, never touching your wings without your express permission.
He seemed to get angrier every time you showed up sporting a new scratch courtesy of some handsy stranger or your master's bitter Conjunx, but nothing made his plating puff out with rage quite like the new collar you'd been forced to wear recently. It was bright orange, with a small bronze tag on its front with your master's address and little bells adorning the sides. It was humiliating and demoralizing and ugly.
Needless to say, you hated it. Your friends (and oh, how happy you'd been when you'd realized that you'd finally made some friends) also hated it, both Soundwave and Megatron offering to shred the offending garment for you. You'd declined only because you couldn't think of a good excuse for no longer having it if your master asked.
Escaping to the meetings and then returning back to the manor undetected was becoming harder and harder, and not just because of the collar. Tensions were running high ever since that little archivist, Orion Pax, had been made a Prime instead of Megatron.
War seemed almost inevitable at this point, and you could feel what remained of your restraint not to join the fight wearing thin as your master once again ranted to you about the "filthy low caste Decepticons" and how they were supposedly "ruining Cybertron."
You flinched as a priceless glass vase shattered just a few inches away from your helm, one servos instinctively raising to cover your already injured optic.
You had become the new target of his aggression ever since his Conjunx had left him. The mech had pulled you aside the night he'd packed his things, whispering softly that he'd left you a small stash of emergency funds under the chest in his berthroom. He'd apologized for everything, stating that he'd been stewing in his own unhappiness so long that he'd let himself become a monster. You'd been completely stunned by his change of spark, but you'd just as quietly thanked him, and wished him luck.
Not too long after, you'd nabbed the funds, donned a hood, and had slipped out once more. However, you didn't go meet Soundwave, even though your spark ached for his presence. No, instead you went right to Starscream, point blank asking the Seeker scientist what the most effective poison you could buy with the amount you'd been left was.
He'd quirked an opticridge at your sudden aggression, but had sharply in-vented when you flipped your hood back, revealing the jagged wound that now cut across your left optic. He'd cursed, asking you if you needed a medic, but you'd quickly reminded him that you couldn't risk being found out, and had repeated your question.
He'd told you to save your money, that he would personally make you a concoction that would be both lethal and painful, if you promised to record your master's final moments.
You'd agreed, and were now just waiting for the night cycle to come once again.
-----A few hours later...------
The manor was quiet as you swept the floor, audials perked as you listened for your que. Sure enough, the sound of pained retching quickly reached you, and you smiled as you finished your task before calmly putting the broom away and walking slowly down the hall to your master's berthroom
The egotistical mech was writhing pathetically on the floor, a sick yellow fluid bubbling out of his intake. You stalked closer to him, slowly circling him as he tried futility to command you to get help. You leaned against his berth as you watched him start to crawl towards the door when he realized that you had no intention of doing anything to aid him.
As he purged up a disgusting mix of high grade, Energon and whatever poison Starscream had cooked up, you stepped away from the berth, fishing out a writing pad from one of the drawers of his ex-Conjunx's wardrobes. You smiled and hummed a little tune as you wrote out a suicide note, posing as your master. You wrote about how his seperation and subsequent shaming from those he once considered friends has driven him to this point, and how he couldn't possibly go on. It was all very dramatic and, hopefully, convincing.
You kept humming as you carefully set the note down and stepped over the twitching corpse of your former master. You'd loved to sing as a youngster, but you'd hadn't had much reason to continue until recently, and you certainly hadn't wanted to give your master something else to flaunt.
With a grin, you stepped outside, went for a little walk, then tore your collar off and hurled it off into the depths. Every single piece of jewelry went next, cast into oblivion as you relished in your newfound freedom.
You transformed into your altmode and breezed through the sky, heading towards your little secret spot. There was only one person you wanted to see right now.
Amazingly, he was there, leaning against the side of an abandoned warehouse, the building left to rust in the darkness of the lower levels of Cybertron. You'd actually thought that you would have to track him down, but it seemed as though he was just as eager to see you as you were to see him.
He glanced up at the sound of your approach, stepping back a smidgen when he saw your altmode for the first time. You did a graceful roll, letting the neon lights of the city reflect off of your markings as you swooped about in delight.
You landed soon after with a laugh, still riding the high of righteous vengeance. You practically pranced right up to Soundwave, ready to tell him all about your night and how excited and free you felt, but suddenly found your face being held by him, one of his tentacles touching the gash that ran across your optic. It was by far the worst injury you'd received, and you could feel his claws curl subconsciously against your faceplates.
"Hey," you said softly, bringing a servo up to rub his arm soothingly. He was shaking now, a low growl forming in his chassis. The vibration went right to your core, and you shifted slightly as a different kind of excitement began to creep through you. "I'm okay. Really, I am."
"[-I'm going to- -tear that- -worthless piece of scrap- -to shreds!-]" he strung together various audio clips to form his sentence, still quivering with rage. One of his tentacles snaked it's way around your neck cableing, searching for the collar you usually wore so that it could tear it off.
You gave him a grin, showing off your pointed denta. "Sorry, 'wave, but I kinda beat you to it. I mean, the body is still there if you really wanted to, but I'm trying to avoid us getting thrown in jail."
Soundwave tilted his helm, as if just now realizing that your frame was free of any accessories. His servos moved down to your neck cables, his claws gently brushing against your most vulnerable point at the moment. You swallowed, feeling your spike pressurize. No doubt your valve was soaking at this point as well, and you resisted the urge to press your thighs together.
"[-You're- -free?-]"
You nodded.
"I can finally go with you this time, become a real Decepticon." you said. Soundwave pulled you in closer, looking down at you.
"[-Y/N- -you've always been- -a real- -Decepticon.-]" Soundwave replied sternly. "[-You are brave- -cunning- -intelligent-]"
He spun you around, pinning you up against the wall. Your spark nearly leapt up into your throat, knees threatening to give out as Soundwave's tentacles roamed over your body, coiling around your limbs and brushing against your wings and the space between your legs.
There was a short moment, a silent pause where he went no further, giving you a chance to speak up, to tell him no. When your response came in the form of a sharp-toothed grin and lightning-quick nip to his closest tentacle, the communications officer leapt into action.
"[-and you're- -driving me- -fragging mad!-]"
Soundwave slotted his knee in-between your thighs, and your panel snapped open, unable to handle the pressure any longer. You gasped and squirmed as he ground against you, your transfluid already dripping down his leg. You latched onto him, claws digging into his back as you hissed in pleasure.
There was a soft clicking sound next to you, but you barely had time to turn your head before a set of fangs sunk into your neck cables, the sharp pain mixing deliciously with the pure euphoria that flooded your processor. You moaned loudly, unable and unwilling to silence yourself as Soundwave bit down harder, glossa lapping at the Energon that welled up from the wound.
The ex-gladiator held you up against the wall with one arm, the other reaching down to grasp your spike as his tentacles began their assault on your valve. Several smaller ones wrapped around eachother and slowly sunk into your folds, brushing against your anterior nodes as they pumped in and out of you, matching the torturously slow speed at which Soundwave had decided was suitable to stroke your spike at.
You whined needily, trying to buck your hips, but Soundwave held you firmly in place as he continued to nip at your neck, giving you several more shallow bites before turning his attention to your wings, which were practically vibrating. The tip of his fangs grazed the point where your right wing met your back, but he didn't move an inch until you were practically sobbing, begging him to just do something!
Your pleas for mercy seemed to work, as he finally released his spike, hauling you up off his knee and depositing you into his lap. His tentacles had done their job, and while the sudden intrusion did burn, it was a good kind of pain. His spike was the perfect length and width, with a knot near its base that you just knew would make you feel stuffed to the brim.
He bit down on your wingjoint as he snapped his hips forward, burring his spike in you with a throaty growl. You keened in delight, engine purring loudly as that long-felt itch was finally scratched. Soundwave snarled and started pounding into you at a rapid pace, the usually composed mech becoming feral and undone as he finally, finally got to claim the prize he'd set his sights on the moment he saw them on that fateful day.
He ran his glossa along your wing as he brought his helm back up, venting hard as he hiked you even further up the wall. He tucked his face back into your neck, biting at the underside of your jaw as you panted helplessly.
"Do you have any idea," a voice, rough with disuse and sinfully hot, growled into your audials as Soundwave some how found a way to fuck you even faster, "how much restraint I had to use not to grab you and pin you up against this wall every time you came to meet me here? Frag, I should have claimed you infront of all those scrap-processor rustspikes that dared to touch you the first time I saw you at one of the rallies, before I ripped their sparks out."
Soundwave pulled all the way out, which drew a snarl from you, before flipping you over and pinning you cockpit-down against the wall as he slammed back into you, leaving you able to do little but drag your claws down the surface of the metal.
"Or maybe I should have just went and plucked you off your little perch the very first time we met and taken you right there in the arena, give the audience a real show. I could have made you sing for me infront of all those people, little song bird.
Your body language made it very clear that you wanted me, and considering how you're acting like a turbo-fox in heat right now, I don't think you would have objected, would you?"
Words were beyond you at this point, but the throaty gasps and wobbling chirps you managed to get out seemed to convey your feelings well enough. And if it didn't, the fact that you just overloaded certainly did. Your walls clenched around Soundwave's spike, and the mech bit down once more as he came, his knot inflating and locking you two together as he pumped you full of transfluid. The softer plating of your abdomen distended slightly, and if Soundwave hadn't been holding you up, you certainly would have ended up on the ground because your legs were jelly.
You were both venting hard, but Soundwave still didn't release his hold on the back of your neck. You squeaked as he slowly bucked his hips again, overstimulated and already stuffed to the brim. You were docile in his hold, lacking the energy to even try and increase the slow, gentle pace your partner was now setting. Soundwave turned around again, exposing you to the world as he slumped against the wall, drawing you in close to his chassis and wrapping his tentacles around your softening spike.
Tears pooled in your eyes as he fragged you into another overload, shaking as the ripples of pleasure jolted through him again. You blinked them away, a purr building in your throat as you felt his face, now maskless, press against your own, nuzzling you gently.
"Y' okay?" He asked, sounding tired. You didn't blame him; you were feeling pretty exhausted yourself.
"Mmhm." You nodded, tucking yourself under his chin. "Better, now that I'm with you. I can't wait to get to see everyone all the time.
He placed his other arm over you, almost covering your small frame. If someone was to, for some strange reason, wander into the abandoned lower areas, they wouldn't get to see much of you, something that gave you a sense of comfort.
"You'll never have to be alone again, my sweet song bird." He promised, planting a soft kiss on your cheek, "And I will never let anyone else hurt you."
Salivating screaming crying sobbing THIS IS SOME GOOD SHIT